


your father's eyes

by clearlykero



Category: Pocket Monsters: Sword & Shield | Pokemon Sword & Shield Versions
Genre: Backstory, Bad Parenting, Gen, Nonbinary Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-27
Updated: 2020-01-27
Packaged: 2021-02-27 08:48:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 933
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22434418
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clearlykero/pseuds/clearlykero
Summary: Allister is never seen without a mask.
Comments: 3
Kudos: 52





	your father's eyes

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote a non-binary Allister here, so if you aren't into that feel free to click away. I was just thinking about the story behind the masks, and this happened.

"I'm sorry," Allister said— those were the first words they could remember saying, ever. Guiltily, angrily, sadly, desperately. There were so many ways they could say the same thing, and so many ways to be wrong. They were always wrong. And still they would apologise, because even if it didn't help, it was just habit, now. Especially after the Accident. They looked down— another habit— and saw, as expected, just one shadow. Their own.

"I'm sorry," they said again, "I can't help you." The lady who had come into their room wrung her hands, making her jeweled bracelets clink softly. They were almost like handcuffs. Allister wondered how it was that a ghost could make sound but couldn't speak. Perhaps the lady was mute. Perhaps she just didn't want to speak; Allister could understand that.

They carefully patted the pokeball in their pocket. There wasn't a reply, but Allister imagined they could hear Gastly chirping anyway. It was funny for a ghost-type to be afraid of ghosts, but their Gastly was a timid one and always wanted to hide. Their mother thought it was weak, but Allister was determined to at least not be sorry about their pokemon. They would grow strong, together.

"If you could show me what you need, with a gesture or something," they began, but just then there was a loud crash from outside their room.

"Allister," called Allister's mother. The ghostly lady flinched at the shout and escaped through the opposite wall right as their mother threw the door open. "Boy—" (Allister flinched, too) "— are you talking to yourself again?"

"I'm not, Mama," they said, fruitlessly, as their mother continued to lament her sorry lot in life. They curled their hand around Gastly in its pokeball and tried not to listen. Their mother's strops weren't an unusual occurrence, but she seemed especially upset today. They hoped she would calm down after she screamed a bit. Maybe they could look for the jewelled lady again afterwards.

"And where has your father gone? That man, it's not enough he leaves me here all alone, expecting me to take care of that ridiculous rat of his too! He knows it hates me!"

"Skitty isn't a rat," Allister said, cringing when their mother whirled to stare at them, "and Papa went to Hammerlocke on a business trip, Mama, I told you yesterday."

"Business! So he's taught you to lie to me too? He must be why my precious son turned out this way," said Allister's mother, with a sob. Allister didn't say a word. "Lying to his poor mother! How could you? You're  _ my  _ son!" 

_ I'm not anyone's  _ son  _ at all,  _ thought Allister, but their tremulous mouth only opened to say, "I'm sorry." Their mother shook her head in distress, pulling at her hair, and her eyes never left Allister's face.

"You look just like him. I shouldn't be surprised you grew into a liar." She pushed the door shut behind her and stepped closer. Allister bit their lip. Their father had told them, once before late at night, not to be in a room alone with their mother. His voice had been very hoarse, and a little bit scared.

"Your mother doesn't like me very much, I'm afraid," he had said, patting Allister's head. "And you're my child through and through."

He had been gone in the morning, for another interminable month. Allister thought sometimes that if they were their father's child then they would have run away after the Accident happened, just like their father did. It was then that their mother had started to become strange, after all. They were snapped out of that memory by the loud sound of a cracking tooth. It was their mother, jaw clenched so tight they could see the veins popping out.

Allister hadn't thought they would be afraid of  their mother, not exactly, but right now she was frightening them.  Gastly, as if it could sense their anxiety, rattled in its pokeball. 

"I should just pluck out those filthy eyes—"

And their mother jerked her hands forward, her decorated nails reaching for Allister, who could only shut their eyes and hope it wouldn't hurt much. Surely she wouldn't injure them permanently. She was their mother. She only lashed out sometimes; she didn't hate them, not really. Family just didn't do that— even Gordie always avoided his mother, but it was obvious he didn't  _ really  _ hate Ms. Melony.

Their eyes were squeezed shut for a whole minute, tense in anticipation of a blow, but no matter how they waited, nothing came. They opened their eyes, cautiously.

"Gastly?" Somehow, Gastly had forced itself out of its pokeball; Allister's mother was enshrouded in its gas, unconscious. Gastly looked at them, its big eyes downturned. Allister could see it was sorry for acting out of turn, but not sorry for protecting them.

"She's my mother," Allister said, all at once completely exhausted. "It's alright."

Gastly made a displeased hiss, but streamed back into its pokeball obediently. Allister looked at their mother. She would be even madder when she woke up, especially if she saw their face again. Allister had always liked looking like their father, since he was around so rarely. It made them feel like they did have a connection, after all, even if he did like to leave when Allister needed him the most.  But now it seemed to make their mother even worse, and Allister couldn't live with that. They couldn't.

"I'm sorry," they said, resignedly, to her still body, and by nightfall the next day they had put on their first mask.


End file.
